To Love Again - Bertrice Small [4]
“I am,” she murmured, the sound more like a cat’s purr.
He has the most winning smile, she thought, remembering the first time she had seen him. She had been fourteen, Cailin’s age. He had come to her father’s village with his father to barter for the fine brooches her people made. She had fallen in love then and there. She quickly learned he was a childless widower, and seemingly in no hurry to remarry. His father, however, was quite desperate that he do so.
Gaius Drusus Corinium was the last of a long line of a family of Roman Britons. His elder brother, Flavius, had died in Gaul with the legions when he was eighteen. His sister, Drusilla, had perished in childbirth at sixteen. His first wife had died after half a dozen miscarriages.
Kyna, the daughter of Berikos, knew she had found the only man with whom she could be happy. Shamelessly she set about to entrap him.
To her surprise, it took little effort. Gaius Drusus Corinium was as hot-blooded as the Celtic girl herself. His proper first wife had bored him. So had all the eligible women and girls who had attempted to entice him after Albinia’s tragic death. Once Kyna had gotten him to notice her, he could scarce take his eyes from her. She was as slender as a sapling, but her high, full young breasts spoke of delights he dared not even contemplate. She mocked him silently with her sapphire-blue eyes and a toss of her long red hair, flirting mischievously with him until he could bear no more. He wanted her as he had never wanted anything in his life, and so he told his father.
Kyna was beautiful, strong, healthy, and intelligent. Her blood mixed with theirs could but strengthen their family. Titus Drusus Corinium was as relieved as he was delighted.
Berikos, chieftain of the hill Dobunni, was not. “We have never mixed our blood with that of the Romans, as so many other tribes have,” he said grimly. “I will barter with you, Titus Drusus Corinium, but I will not give your son my daughter for a wife.” His blue eyes were as cold as stone.
“I am every bit as much a Briton as you are,” Titus told him indignantly. “My family have lived in this land for three centuries. Our blood has been mixed with that of the Catuvellauni, the Iceni, even as your family has mixed its blood with those and other tribes.”
“But never with the Romans,” came the stubborn reply.
“The legions are long gone, Berikos. We live as one people now. Let my son, Gaius, have your daughter Kyna to wife. She wants him every bit as much as he wants her.”
“Is this so?” Berikos demanded of his daughter, his long mustache quivering furiously. This was the child of his heart. Her betrayal of their proud heritage was painful.
“It is,” she answered defiantly. “I will have Gaius Drusus Corinium for my husband, and no other.”
“Very well,” Berikos replied angrily, “but know that if you take this man for your mate, you do so without my blessing. I will never look upon your face again. You will be as one dead to me,” he told her harshly, hoping his words would frighten her into changing her mind.
“So be it, my father,” Kyna said with equal firmness.
She had left her Dobunni village that day and had never looked back. Though she missed the freedom of her hill country, her inlaws were loving and kind to her. Julia, her mother-in-law, had wisely insisted the marriage be postponed six months so that Kyna could learn more civilized ways. Then, a year after their marriage was celebrated, she and Gaius had left the house in Corinium for the family villa some fifteen miles from town. She was not yet with child, and it was thought the serenity of the countryside would aid the young couple in their attempts. Sure enough, when Kyna was in her seventeenth year, their twin sons, Titus and Flavius, were born. Cailin came two years later. After that there were no more children, but Kyna and Gaius did not care. The three the gods had blessed them with were healthy, strong, beautiful, and intelligent, even